


The Listener

by supernaturallylost



Series: Rehabilitation [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Bathing/Washing, Budding Love, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homeless Castiel, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, nonsexualized bathing, seriously the sweetest thing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4414721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturallylost/pseuds/supernaturallylost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up to an interesting smell. When he comes into the kitchen, Castiel decides it's time to reveal parts of his story. Afterward, Dean does what he can to help Cas feel safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Listener

Dean sniffed the air. With a very loud, drawn-out groan, he stretched. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

He sniffed the air again.

“I want a dream lover,” he heard from the kitchen, “so I don’t have to dream alone.”

“Is he singing Bobby Darin?” Dean whispered to himself.

“Dream lover, until then, I'll go to sleep and dream again,” Cas sang quietly. “That's the only thing to do, until all my lover's dreams come true.”

Cas continued humming softly while Dean closed his eyes and rested his arm over his eyes. Of all of the ways to be awoken, he thought, this was the best. Eventually, Cas changed what he was singing to a different old song by the Ink Spots. Dean chuckled to himself while Cas rattled pans in the kitchen, spreading the smell of butter and apples through the apartment.

“I don’t want to set the world on fire,” Cas sang under his breath. “I just want to start a flame in your heart.”

Dean sighed and mumbled under his breath along with Cas’s song, “I’ve lost all ambition for worldly acclaim. I just want to be the one you love. And with your admission that you feel the same, I’ll have reached the goal I’m dreaming of, believe me.”

With another sigh, Dean rocked forward and opened his eyes fully. After a big yawn, he looked around to see the sweatpants and shirt he’d loaned Cas sitting on the dresser, neatly folded. Dean frowned. Softly, Dean slid off of the bed, walked to the door, and padded down the hallway.

“I just want to start,” Cas finished singing obliviously, “a flame in your heart.”

“I should have known you’d love the old music,” Dean interrupted while leaning against the wall. Cas jumped when he heard him and turned with a hand over his heart. Dean laughed. “Sorry, Cas. Didn’t mean to scare you. You have a good voice, you know.”

Cas blushed, smiled, and glanced down at the dark, dark, dark brown pie on the table.

“I, uh,” he said. With a small shrug he finished, “I made you a pie.”

Dean raised a hand to his neck and nodded.

“I see that,” he answered tactfully. After a second, he added, “It looks good.”

Cas laughed.

“I’m sorry,” he smiled. “I’ve never baked before, and I thought it would be easy.”

Dean shook his head and walked forward. He looked down at the pie with incredibly conspicuous affection before showing that look to Castiel. He reached out for Cas’s hand.

“Thank you, Cas,” he said softly.

Cas blushed yet again and looked down at his hand in Dean’s. Slowly, Dean used his other hand to cover a yawn.

“It’s only eight,” Cas noticed. “Sam said you usually sleep until nine.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Bitch,” he whispered. “He leaves so early, he has no idea when I usually wake up.”

Cas waited a second, eyebrow raised, before asking, “You sleep later than that don’t you?”

Dropping the façade, Dean nodded. “I’m usually asleep until at least ten thirty.”

Cas grinned.

“So,” Dean took a deep breath. “What are you doing up? Aren’t you tired?”

Dean reached to pull a chair out, gave Cas’s hand one last squeeze, and then sat down. Gently, Cas pulled out the chair next to him and sat.

“I have trouble sleeping too long,” Cas admitted. He opened his mouth to try to speak, but nothing came out.

“Hey,” Dean whispered. He leaned across the table, accidentally pushing the pie further away. “It’s okay, Cas. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.”

“No, I do,” Cas responded firmly. “I don’t know if I’m ready, but I know it’s time – for some of this at least.”

Dean frowned. “Well, if you’re sure you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

“I just want you to know,” Cas smiled sadly, “some of it, at least.”

Cas took a deep, shaking breath. Dean leaned forward with his hands flat on the table. Then, slowly and all at once, Cas spoke.

“I was spoiled,” he began. “I was one of the youngest in a very large family, and I was spoiled. We were wealthy, and we were treated with a sort of reverence by people. Dad was a community leader, of sorts, and we had a lot of respect because of it.”

Dean leaned back. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but certainly not this.

“When I was disowned, I had nowhere to go.” Cas looked down, and it was painfully clear that he’d skipped an important part of his story. Dean frowned and leaned forward again. “I was homeless, and I lived on the buses, in the parks, and sometimes… Sometimes I lived with people.”

Cas looked down, but his lip, and swallowed hard.

“This morning, I woke up and didn’t know where I was.” Cas closed his eyes while he spoke. “I thought maybe it’d happened again. I’d fall asleep on a bus or on a bench, and I’d wake up with people I didn’t know. I’d feel something in my blood, and my arm would ache. They’d kick me and hit me and… hurt me.”

Dean’s eyes were wide, but Cas’s were still closed.

“When you’re alone and homeless, people think anything they do is a kindness,” Cas whispered. “And when I’d run away, they’d chase me and…”

Dean bit his cheeks and clenched his fists. When Cas didn’t start talking again right away, Dean whispered.

“Then the scars on your hands and feet,” he asked without asking.

“Chains,” he shrugged, his eyes still closed tightly to keep the memories inside. “Among other things.”

Dean stared at Cas’s hands and wanted to wrap them in a warm, damp cloth. He wanted to keep him safe.

“Cas,” he whispered.

“Some of them still seek me out,” Cas interrupted, “and feel I owe them for their… assistance. I don’t want your brother or you tangled into that.”

Finally, Cas reopened his eyes.

“I’m scared,” he whispered. His eyes were watering, and he looked into Dean’s mortified eyes without any pretense of hope. “My past is full of nightmares, and they don’t stop. I’m scared of what I’ve seen. Most of all, I’m scared that it’ll catch up with me and… I’m scared it will hurt you.”

Dean frowned.

“So,” Cas finished, “I have to tell you about myself. If you want me to stay with you, there are things you need to know about me.”

“Of course,” Dean nodded. “Tell me anything, Cas.”

“I can’t cook,” Cas started with a half-smile. “I wake up in the middle of the night because that’s when the police or strangers or other homeless men would chase me away. I sing old time music because it’s what I remember best from home. I love water, but I’ve only been able to take four showers in the last two years.”

Dean nodded.

“Anything else?” he said.

“My name is Castiel,” he said simply while tears fell down his cheek, “and I want to stay here with you.”

Dean smiled softly and stood up. He walked away, leaving Cas alone at the table. Then, Cas heard the sound of the water running. When Dean came back, he didn’t say anything. He gently held Cas’s hands, pulled him from his seat, and led him to the bathroom. Once inside, Dean closed the door behind them. He took a bottle of something soapy from the shelf by the door and let it fall into the warm water that was collecting inside of the tub. Slowly, the water grew bubbles. Dean checked the temperature of the water with the back of his hand and nodded. When he turned to Cas, he smiled.

“You can get in the tub now,” he spoke quietly. He looked away and reached over to find a sponge. Meanwhile, he heard the sounds of clothing brushing against Cas’s skin. Then, very gingerly, Castiel walked forward, stepped into the tub, and lowered himself down. Dean didn’t look over again until it sounded like he was settled into the water. Then he said, “I remember one time, when I was pretty young, when Bobby and I went to play baseball in the park.”

Dean continued talking about the feel of the wind on his face, the sound of the birds, how much he wanted to be the other kids who seemed like they went to the park every day, and what it meant to him that Bobby took the heat from his father afterward. While Dean shut off the water and knelt by the tub, he talked about his favorite memories. Without looking Cas in the eyes, he smiled. He dipped the sponge in the water and tenderly raised Cas’s arm to the side of the tub.

“One time, Sammy and I spent Christmas on our own,” Dean laughed breathily, shaking his head. He rubbed the wet, soapy, Eucalyptus scented suds over Cas’s arm listened to Cas sigh. “I don’t know how, but somehow Sammy got me a killer present. I think I got him a Barbie. Or was that a different year?”

Cas laughed under his breath and relaxed his arm. Dean dipped the sponge into the bath again before sliding it lightly over Cas’s skin. Although Dean wasn’t really washing anything, Cas felt cleaner. He felt calm.

“I don’t know that I really got Christmas presents,” Cas said curiously. He tilted his head and tried to remember. “I used to give presents all of the time, though. I loved helping people during Christmas time.”

For the next hour, Cas and Dean sat there, telling each other stories while Dean washed all of Cas’s limbs and his neck and his chest. When he reached Cas’s feet, he heard Cas stifle a giggle. As Dean scrubbed harder to test his theory, the giggling grew louder until Cas was laughing and splashing in the water. Dean laughed loudly until suds landed all over his face.

Eventually, Dean took a deep breath and stood up. He walked over to the linen closet and grabbed the largest towel he could find. He held it in front of himself and waited for Cas to walk into it. Then, gently, he wrapped the towel around Cas and led him to the bedroom to pick out fresh, new clothes. After dressing in Dean’s old, smaller clothes, Cas let Dean lead him to the kitchen to make lunch while inconspicuously breathing in the smell of them.

“And we have a beautiful pie for dessert,” Dean noted with a grin. Cas nodded and looked at the door to the apartment. He smiled, shook his head imperceptibly, and watched Dean prepare hamburgers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! Leave notes if you have any.
> 
> Here are links to the songs mentioned on youtube:
> 
> Dream Lover by Bobby Darin: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_urVDCrf5A  
> I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire by the Ink Spots: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8LPj_khfgE


End file.
